#Hanukkah fic

[afteriwake]

Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah (A "Just Pieces On The Board" Story)

I absolutely adore headcanoning Darcy as Jewish, and as Hanukkah begins tomorrow at sunset, I want to do some Hanukkah fluff as well. I hope it's okay that her friends are celebrating with her even though they aren't Jewish. I'm not Jewish but I thought her family would like to make her holiday better.

Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah - Darcy's friends decide to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah with her.

READ @ AO3 | SERIES PAGE

“We’re going to have the best damn first night of Hanukkah for Darcy this year!” Jane said. “Besides. I have a pregnancy craving for latkes with applesauce.”

“Latkes with applesauce I can make!” Darcy said, her cheeks flushing as she surveyed her found family. Jane was there, Thor was there, Brunhilde was there and Loki was there. It was the first night of Hanukkah and they’d decked the apartment out in silver and blue ornaments and even given her a new menorah for the occasion. Well, all but Loki had decorated for the day; it had been his job to distract her.

“We have dreidels and we have reptile safe Hanukkah candles for Jörmungandr, and we just know you get overwhelmed with all the Christmas stuff. Last year we sucked at it, but this year we wanted to change things and celebrate with you,” Jane said. “Is that okay?”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m a practicing Jew for the most part,” Darcy said. “But really, thank you. Hanukkah is my favorite time of the year and this is the second year in a row I didn’t get to go home to celebrate.”

“Well, let’s get to work!” Thor said enthusiastically. “Darcy, tell us what to do.”

Soon the kitchen was a flurry of activity, as Darcy directed her friends in helping to make all the goodies from her childhood Hanukkahs. It was great to see her friends so invested in making her happy. The year before she’s been truly alone, as Loki had still been helping his brother take care of the Asgardian migration, and hadn’t shown up until New Year’s Eve. Jane had bought her a gift every night of Hanukkah, and she’d gone to the synagogue for the first time in ages, but things just hadn’t felt the same.

This year, however, just felt right.

When the food was done they served it up and Darcy taught them the intricacies of the dreidel and the other aspects of Hanukkah she loved so much. Then they lit the first candle of the menorah and exchanged gifts, with Darcy getting the lion’s share. How they had all gotten her perfect Hanukkah gifts she’d never know.

When it all settled down, Darcy settled in next to Loki to watch “Eight Crazy Nights” with the others. He’d been more introspective than jovial, and she wondered what was on his mind. “Hey,” she said quietly, reaching up to touch his face gently. “You okay, Loki?”

“I know so little about your religion,” he said. “I’m hoping to make it a point to learn.”

“Well, if we ever have any kids, either via magic or adoption, they’ll be Jewish because I’m Jewish,” she said. “I don’t really study the Torah or go to the synagogue except for the big holidays, but you’re welcome to come with me next time? We can go tomorrow, since I’m not expecting another big bash like tonight.”

“I’d like that,” he said, giving her a soft smile.

“Good. I’d like that too.” She shifted her position so her head was on his lap and she was stretched out on top of Brunhilde and Thor, with Jane sitting in the chair next to the sofa, nibbling at another latke. She took it all in and felt warm and happy. While the Avengers as a whole was one big happy family, this was her family, these four people who she’d never have met if Thor hadn’t been banished to Earth. She loved them all, and loved what they had done for her tonight, she thought as she turned to look at the menorah on her fireplace mantel. Her Hebrew was a little rusty, but she remembered her father’s favorite blessings for first times. “Baruch Ata Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Haolam, shehechiyanu, v’kiy’manu, v’higianu lazman hazeh,” she said out loud.

“What does that mean?” Brunhilde asked, tilting her head. “I’m not familiar with Hebrew.”

“’Blessed are you, the Eternal our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this moment’,” Darcy said. “It’s a blessing for first times that my dad loved. I thought it was appropriate.”

“I think it’s great,” Jane said with a smile. “Maybe we can do this every night of Hanukkah?”

“Oh my goodness, I would love that!” Darcy said, sitting up. You guys are the best, seriously.” Jane got up and gave her a hug, and Darcy melted in it. How had she ever gotten so lucky to get this found family? She’d never know, but she was happy with them nonetheless, and that was all that mattered.

[cobra-creampuff]

My Winter Holiday Fics Masterlist (in order of time of year taken place)

Store Bought Is Fine: Taako & Merle + Elderberries Taako stands in front of a display of seasonal berries, the elderberries right up front.

Frigophobia: Mick & The Legends + Hypothermia Or 3 Times Mick Thought He'd Freeze +1 Time He Was Warm and Cozy

Thermophobia: Len & The Legends + Burns Or 3 Times Leonard Thought He'd Burn +1 Time He Was Cool and Comfortable

Beware of Cat: Loki & The Avengers + Winter Solstice Loki gives the Avengers holiday gifts. Entirely altruistically, of course.

Warm and Lazy and Lucky: Stiles/Derek + Literal Sleeping Together When he can finally see past his own blind Bambi panic, Stiles is met with the lovely first-thing-in-the-morning image of a wolfed-out Derek Hale.

No Equivalent Substitute: Taako & Lucretia + Candlenights Dinner Merle, Magnus, and Lup beg Taako to let them invite Lucretia to Candlenights. Merle posits that Taako should try to forgive for his own good, Magnus invokes the spirit of familial togetherness, and Lup just says please. So Taako agrees, even though he's not ready.

And Many More: Loki & Thor + Thor's Birthday Thor is not going to fall for it this time. No he is not. (Yes he is.)

Fair Weather, Friends: Bruce & The Avengers + Thor's Birthday The Avengers overhear an altercation between the brothers at Thor's birthday party.

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Flash (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types, The Flash (TV 2014) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Leonard Snart & Lisa Snart, Leonard Snart/Barry Allen implied, Lisa Snart/Sam Scudder mentioned Characters: Leonard Snart, Lisa Snart Additional Tags: Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Jewish Leonard Snart, Jewish Lisa Snart, Leonard & Lisa Snart Sibling Feels, Hanukkah, References to Canon, The Rogues As Family (The Flash), Holiday Traditions, Rogues Advent Summary:

Len and Lisa celebrate Hanukkah, and the traditions they've made over the years with the Rogues and the Flash

For the Flash Rogues Advent Calendar

[oldfangirl81]

I wrote 911/DC Hanukkah chaos fic that ended up needing two parts.

Summary: Jason was trying to share tradition and impress Roy and Lian. Instead he ends up reuniting with a friend sooner than expected.

[pucksandpower]

Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah

Lance Stroll x Reader

Summary: you celebrate Hanukkah with your boyfriend and his family for the first time

The warm glow of the chandelier fills the Strolls’ spacious dining room, casting soft golden light across the table laden with brisket, latkes, and an assortment of other dishes you can’t name but are determined to try.

Lance is at your side, leaning slightly back in his chair, one arm casually slung over the back of yours. His fingers tap absently at your shoulder as if to remind you he’s here. You appreciate it, considering the nerves humming through your body.

Chloe is mid-sentence, waving her fork with a flourish. “I’m just saying, it’s not Hanukkah without the family dreidel tournament. We’re doing it after dinner. Non-negotiable.”

Scotty laughs, his easy smile lighting up the room. “Is that because you win every year? You rig the rules.”

Chloe gasps. “Excuse me? I’m just naturally gifted at spinning a piece of wood. Don’t be jealous.”

Across the table, Lawrence clears his throat, his deep voice effortlessly cutting through the chatter. “It’s not about winning. It’s about tradition. And teaching new traditions to the ones joining us.” His gaze lands on you, warm but expectant.

You manage a smile. “I’m looking forward to it. Though, full disclosure, I’ve never played before.”

Lance grins, nudging you gently. “Don’t worry. It’s easy. You spin, you win, you make Chloe mad — just like the rest of us.”

Chloe throws a latke at him. “You wish. Y/N, you’re on my team.”

“Since when are there teams?” Scotty interjects.

“Since I just made them up,” Chloe retorts, flipping her hair dramatically.

Lawrence raises an eyebrow, but there’s the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Can we finish the meal before declaring war?”

You glance at Lance, whispering under your breath, “Is it always like this?”

He chuckles softly. “You have no idea.”

***

Later, the dining table is cleared of the few sufganiyot left over from dessert, replaced by a small bowl of shiny chocolate gelt and an ancient, slightly chipped dreidel. You sit cross-legged on the plush rug, between Lance and Chloe, as Scotty reads out the rules like a referee.

“Alright, reminder for everyone, especially the newbies,” he winks at you. “Nun, nothing happens. Gimel, you get everything. Hey, you get half. Shin, you give one up. Simple enough?”

“Simple,” you repeat, though the Hebrew letters are a jumble in your mind.

Chloe elbows you lightly. “Beginner’s luck is real. You’ll probably clean us all out.”

“Unless Lance decides to show off,” Scotty teases, earning an eye roll from your boyfriend.

Lance picks up the dreidel, turning it over in his hands like it’s a piece of racing equipment he’s testing for flaws. “It’s just a dreidel. Relax.”

“You’re taking forever,” Chloe says. “Y/N, you go first.”

Your stomach flips. All eyes are on you, even Lawrence’s, though his expression remains unreadable. You pick up the dreidel, the smooth wood cool in your palm. Lance leans in slightly, his voice low and playful. “Just flick it. Not too hard, or it’ll bounce into next week.”

“Great advice,” you deadpan, shooting him a look.

He grins, completely unrepentant.

Taking a breath, you spin. The dreidel whirls across the hardwood, the letters blurring. It wobbles, then falls. Gimel.

“Are you serious?” Chloe groans. “She’s taking all the gelt already?”

You laugh, half in relief, half in disbelief, as Lance tosses his hands up. “What did I tell you? Beginner’s luck!”

Lawrence leans back in his chair, watching with quiet amusement. “You’re off to a strong start.”

The game continues, the room filling with laughter and playful jabs. Chloe accuses Scotty of cheating. Scotty retaliates by stealing a piece of her chocolate. Lance spins for so long at one point that you’re convinced he’s figured out how to defy the laws of physics. Through it all, you feel yourself relaxing, the initial nerves melting away like wax from the menorah candles.

At one point, Lance nudges you with his knee. “Having fun?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” you admit. “Though I think Chloe’s plotting my downfall.”

“She plots everyone’s downfall,” he says with a grin, then leans closer, his voice dropping. “You’re doing great, by the way.”

You glance at him, curious. “At what? Playing dreidel?”

“No,” he says softly, his gaze steady. “Fitting in.”

The words catch you off guard, simple as they are. You search his face, wondering if he realizes how much they mean to you. Before you can respond, Chloe interrupts, declaring, “Okay, I’m done losing. Let’s light the candles.”

***

The family gathers around the menorah, the room growing quieter. Lance stands beside you, his arm brushing yours. Lawrence picks up the shamash, his movements deliberate, reverent. He lights the next candle, the tiny flame flickering before it steadies.

The prayer begins, and you listen, the unfamiliar Hebrew washing over you like a melody you don’t know the words to but can still hum along with. Lance’s voice is low, confident, blending seamlessly with his family’s.

You wonder if he learned this as a child, if the sound of it feels like home to him.

When it’s over, Chloe turns to you with a mischievous grin. “So, Y/N. First Hanukkah with the Strolls. How’s it going?”

You hesitate, suddenly aware of all the eyes on you. “It’s … a lot to take in. But in the best way. I mean, I’ve never celebrated Hanukkah before, so this is all new. But it’s-” You glance at Lance, then back at the others. “It’s really nice. Warm. I feel lucky to be here.”

Lawrence nods, his expression softening. “We’re glad you’re here.”

“And,” Chloe adds, “you’re way better at dreidel than Lance, so you’re already winning.”

“Hey!” Lance protests, feigning indignation. “I’m right here.”

“Exactly,” she says, laughing.

You can’t help but smile, your earlier nerves now replaced by a quiet sense of belonging. As the candles burn lower, the conversations drift to other topics — racing, snowboarding, hockey, upcoming travel plans, Chloe’s latest song idea. Lance keeps his hand on your knee, a subtle anchor in the midst of the lively chaos.

Later, as the evening winds down and the family begins to disperse, Lance pulls you aside. The room is quieter now, the glow of the menorah casting long shadows. He tugs you close, his arms looping loosely around your waist.

“You survived,” he says, his voice warm with teasing.

“Barely,” you reply, though you’re smiling. “Your family is … intense. In a good way.”

“They like you,” he says simply, then adds with a smirk, “Even my dad.”

“High praise,” you tease back.

He grows quieter, his gaze softening. “Seriously, though. You were great tonight. I know this was a big deal for you, trying something new. I’m proud of you.”

Your chest tightens at the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks, Lance. I-” You pause, struggling to find the right words. “I just wanted to do it right. For you. For them.”

“You did,” he says firmly. “More than right.”

The flicker of candlelight dances in his eyes, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours.

“I love you,” he murmurs, so quietly it’s almost lost in the stillness.

Your breath catches, and for a second, all you can do is stare at him. Then you smile, the kind of smile that starts deep in your chest and spreads like warmth through your whole body.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

And in the quiet glow of the menorah, with the scent of candles and laughter lingering in the air, you realize that this — this messy, lively, imperfectly perfect night — is what family feels like.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

That's Priceless

Prompt Day 26: Hanukkah | Word Count: 442 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Chrismukkah, Gift Giving, Jewish Eddie Munson

Steve pushes the cart, and Eddie isn't paying a lot of attention. They've been at this for hours, and he's not invested in any more shopping. He's done, done. But Steve's list to buy for is longer than the list of people Eddie even likes, so here they are. Still shopping, and Eddie dropped three stores ago.

When he looks up, Steve's putting a roll of wrapping paper in the cart. It's covered with blue, white and gold graphics, very clearly for Hanukkah. 

"Don't we still have some paper left?" Eddie asks. He's pretty sure they still have the roll they bought a few years ago.

"Well, yeah," Steve answers, "but everybody else gets new Christmas wrapping paper way more often because we go through more Christmas paper. I thought you might like to see something new, too."

Eddie smiles. He definitely, one hundred percent, doesn't care about what the wrapping paper looks like. But if Steve cares, he'll care, too.

"Thanks, that's nice of you," Eddie says, because it is nice, and thoughtful. 

Steve Harrington is a good dude, and that's a fact that Eddie has learned over and over again during the time he's known him.

The night before Hanukkah begins, Steve hands him a box, looking giddy. Eddie pulls the top off, and there's a new menorah. It looks hand-carved, with characters that are designed and painted in a DnD theme. It's totally fun, and not at all what Eddie expected to be in the box. 

"It's kosher!" Steve announces, nearly bursting at the seams, he's so excited.

Eddie picks it up, and it is. Eight candle holders in a straight line, on the same level, with the helper candle spot just a little raised. It is, in fact, kosher. Steve's been listening to him, which shouldn't surprise him at all. Steve always listens, retains information, and tucks it away for a rainy day.

"It is," Eddie says, "thanks, Steve. I love it."

"There are forty-five candles, too. Just in case one breaks or is missing a wick or something," Steve explains, and Eddie really, truly wonders who he's been talking to. 

It doesn't really matter. Steve thought this through, thoroughly, just to make Eddie happy and that's priceless. 

Eddie clears a space for it, and can't wait for the next night. It's his very own menorah, suited to him, just because Steve loved him enough to reach out to someone to have it made.

He's always celebrated both, and Steve has embraced that fully. There's a Christmas tree in front of the window, and now his very own menorah on the mantle.

'Tis the season. Both of them.

If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🕎

Notes: I saw the video of the woman showing different menorahs and having the viewers guess if they were kosher or not. There was a fun dinosaur one that was, and it made think, well, there could be a DnD one for Eddie.

[cingulata]

I wrote some Zoot/Lips Hanukkah fluff!!! 🕎

Because I wanted Zoot to have more of a Hanukkah celebration than just standing in the corner by himself at a Christmas party like in Letters to Santa (and then having that scene cut from the Disney Plus version anyway).

[ivystoryweaver]

Holiday Fics Masterlist (the whole year thru)

Main Masterlist

New Year

"Happy New Year" Modern!Earth!Leto Atreides || 952 words

Valentines

(Art, not fics)

Oscar Isaac Characters Valentines Masterlist

Mother's Day

"What a Mother Can Be" Moon Dads (Steven and Marc) || 1.7k words

Father’s Day

“He’s Okay” Dad!Marc Spector || 1.3k words

Autumn

"Happy New Year, Jake" (Rosh Hashanah) Jake Lockley || 820 words

"Can't Live Without Him" (Fall Festival) Marc Spector || 519 words

Halloween

"Spectre: A Moon Knight Halloween Love Story" Moon Boys || ongoing || 18+

"It's Everything" Jake Lockley || 684 words

Thanksgiving

"A Date, Then?" Steven Grant || 1k words

Winter

"Next December" Jake Lockley || 805 words || 18+

"Surf's Up" Jake Lockley || 100 words

"Let It Snow" Jake Lockley || 333 words

Holiday Season

"Jingle Bells" Santiago Garcia || 800 words

Holidays with the Moon Boys moodboard

"It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" (Life Day) Poe Dameron || 3.1k words

Hanukkah

"Eight Nights (in December)" Marc, Steven (Jake is mentioned) || 7.4k words

"'Twas the Night Before" Marc Spector || 2.5k words

Christmas

"'Twas the Night Before" Marc Spector || 2.5k words

"(Everybody's Waitin' for) The Man With the Bag" Miguel O'Hara || 1050 words

“Fairytale of New York” Llewyn Davis || 2.2k words || 18+

Birthday

Moon Boys Celebrate Your Birthday 635 words

“March the 9th” Marc Spector || 1.4k words

[takadasaiko]

This is one of my favourite SSR-era fics. Happy Hanukkah 🕎

DAY FOUR: Maqqaba, by Domenika Marzione | @laporcupina Fandom: Captain America & Agent Carter; Rating: Gen; Words: 1.8k

“Chanukah in the SSR.”

In less than two thousand words, this fic evokes a very specific mood: quiet, focused, and deeply poignant. 

Holiday Fic Countdown 2018 | Holiday Fic Favorites | Fic recs masterpost

[lavendersixer]

okay y'all sometime in december im going to write about the holidays, and since the Pine's are canon Jewish i wanna do some audience research. im putting this out now so it has some time to circulate before the holidays start

it would mean the world to me you guys could tell me your favorite Hanukkah traditions/celebrations. it could be what you do or what you think the Pines would do, either way. i would love something super niche and specific to make it feel real. im atheist but my family celebrates christmas. so i don't want to write a really detailed christmas and leave Hanukkah lacking by including just the basics 😭

please let me know if this is disrespectful in any way, my only intention is to create better and more inclusive writing.

much love 🫶🫶

[celestialseawitch-ff]

Hanukkah 2024

If I Know Love, It's Because of You

Read Here

2. Time, and Time Again (update)

Read Here

3. The Marked One (update)

Read Here

4. A Hopeless Place

Read Here

5. Spider-Man: Prince of Asgard (update)

Read Here

6. The Beginning and End of Everything

Read Here

7. The Heir of Slytherin (New WIP)

Read Here

8. The Heir of Slytherin (update)

Read Here

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

Merry Christmas~! here have (most of)the Christmas section of the fic im writing that is still very much ongoing! :3

=

-

Christmas morning felt like a childhood Christmas morning. Presents appearing under the three-courtesy of the house elves, warm treats on the coffee table in front of the fire, stockings full of treats and small gifts, and soft music playing from somewhere as (y/n) quietly walked into the main part the Slytherin common, tying her warm robe tightly around her waist, her slippers soft against her feet as she walked towards the fireplace.

It was early, barely 630 am, but early Christmas mornings were the best thing.

(y/n) settled down on one of the loveseats near the fireplace, taking one of the mugs of hot coco that the elves had set out and letting it warm her up, the liquid filling her chest with warmth as she sipped at it, the light of the fire and the Christmas tree gently illuminating the space.

Eventually, the few younger Slytherins who had stayed for Christmas came rushing in, eagerly opening their stockings and presents, and were out by the time Tom came wandering it, wearing his own warm robe, but he wasn’t wearing slippers-just his bare feet padding against the floor as he made his way into the main common room where (y/n) was.

“Happy Christmas,” (y/n) said quietly as not to break the comfortable quiet that had settled in the common room once the younger Slytherins had left to go get dressed and play with their new Christmas gifts.

“Mmm, morning,” Tom mumbled, sitting down on the couch, grabbing a mug of still steaming tea from the coffee table, (y/n) noticing he put quite a bit of sugar and cream in it, (y/n) didn’t mention it, sipping at her hot coco.

Tom settled back into the couch, eyes on the fireplace. He seemed tired still-it reminded her of how her parents would be Christmas moring, when she and her siblings got up way too early for Christmas and her parents would be exhausted from wrapping gifts only a few hours before.

(y/n) decided to take the initiative, getting up from the love seat to grab the still full stockings, the younger Slytherins had already grabbed theirs, but there were still two stockings left-and she handed one to Tom-who seemed surprised.

“I got a stocking?” Tom asked, his brows pinched together as he held the black and green stripped stocking in his hands-it was bulging, he could feel the small treats and gifts within the fabric. (y/n) shrugged, not commenting on the fact that he was surprised he got a stocking.

The two opened their stockings, (y/n) got the usual stocking stuffers she got almost every year-but just a 1940s version of them. Hair ties, a tooth brush, candy canes, chocolates, wand polish, and many other small items suited for a stocking gift.

She looked up, seeing Tom had poured out his stocking onto the couch beside him. She saw chocolates, candy canes, wand polish, a glass pen, a small carving knife, hair gel, a toothbrush, and a small wooden snake that was bendable.

Tom stared at his stocking gifts for a moment, picking up the small wooden snake and moving it between his fingers, fixated on the small toy.

(y/n) got up, grabbing for the first present under the tree. She frowned lightly, noticing the only gift for Tom was from her, so she picked it up and handed it to him. “Happy Christmas Tom,” she said softly, feeling her heart ache just a bit by the way Tom looked at the gift-as if it was the very first time he’d gotten a Christmas gift.

“For me?” Tom asked her, his brows pinched in what seemed like confusion. (y/n) nodded, and Tom took the wrapped gift from her gently, setting it in his lap with a look of confusion, shock, and a bit of awe.

(y/n) grabbed one of her gifts from her friends, the tag saying it was from lucy, sitting back down on the loveseat, undoing the ribbon as Tom quietly opened his gift from her. He gently set the ribbon at his side, and then began to open the wrapping paper-almost trying not to rip it as he turned the gift over in his hands.

He took off the wrapping paper, holding the small chest in his hands, admiring the snake carvings that lined the curves of the chest. His thumb smoothed over the metal snake latch, glancing back at (y/n) as she opened her gift from Alice-a pair of heeled boots; sturdy and fashionable.

“Thank you,” Tom murmured under his breath, and (y/n) turned to smile at him, Tom’s heart feeling as if it was beating out of his chest at the sight of it. He held the chest tightly through the rest of the morning, watching (y/n) open her gifts from her friends-feeling bad he hadn’t gotten her anything.

He wasn’t used to feeling bad for not doing something-unless it was school work.

“I didn’t get you anything, I apologize,” Tom said as (y/n) began to throw out wrapping paper, and she shook her head with a smile.

“I don’t mind, besides-I got plenty of gifts from the girls, one less gift doesn’t disappoint me. I don’t think you expected me to get you a gift anyway so I wasn’t expecting one in return.” (y/n) said, rambling a bit as she trashed the wrapping paper and sorted her gifts into a pile, smiling back at Tom-which made his ears turn hot.

Reactions like this, for Tom, had been happening for a bit-feeling things he never felt before. Nervous, sometimes anxious, even flustered-all because of her. He’d never really show it, of course not-he was still a very controlled person and hated having his emotions show.

But right now, he was sure he looked like a unicorn in headlights.

-

After Christmas breakfast in the great hall, with all the professors drinking Christmas punch and wearing funny hats, (y/n) finds a new gift under the tree after getting back to the common room. It’s addressed to her and as she picks it up-she feels the magic interwoven into every part of the wrapping-including the ribbon.

She looks at the tag, it’s from Tom, and she smiles, sitting down by the tree and opening the gift gently. It was a simple black box, and when she opened it, she found a silver snake bracelet inside, with small protection runes carved into the metal on the inside. The metal was interwoven with magic-it was a transfigured gift-not rushed but quickly made with perfection since it was such a last-minute gift.

(y/n) smiled, slipping the snake bracelet onto her left wrist and it magically tightened to fit snugly, and then easily became loose when she went to take it off just to see if she could.

She smiled warmly, getting up from the floor and cleaning up the wrapping paper and ribbon, admiring her new bracelet as she headed back to her dorm.

-

“Thank you for the bracelet, it’s lovely.” (y/n) said to Tom as she passed by him in the common room, Tom coming in from the library while (y/n) was heading out to go to the Christmas dinner feast. Tom blinked at her and nodded.

“Of course, I’m glad you like it.” Tom said calmly, giving her a small smile in return as (y/n) beamed at him. Something from above caught her attention and Tom looked up as well-the two freezing as mistletoe began to appear. “House elves.” Tom murmured under his breath, preparing to step back to not make anything awkward but he felt a warmth on his cheek-his ears heating up as (y/n) stepped away from him, still smiling, her cheeks warm.

“Happy Christmas Tom,” she said softly, turning on her heel and heading out the common room door to go to Christmas dinner.

“…happy Christmas (y/n),” Tom murmured after a few solid moments of him standing completely still in shock, his breath still caught in his chest, books held in his arms.

He just got kissed on the cheek…

-

“That’s so pretty (y/n)!” Alice gasps the night everyone came back to Hogwarts after break ended, just about a week after Christmas day. (y/n) smiled, looking down at the silver snake bracelet on her wrist.

“Thank you, Tom gave it to me,” (y/n) said and her friends’ jaw’s dropped, their eyes wide. “Always the look of surprise when I mention Tom doing something nice.” (y/n) joked, chuckling a bit as Lucy scoots as close as she can-her friends asking for every little detail about anything that happened between her and Tom during Christmas break.

“Not much, we had a nice quiet Christmas morning together, I gave him his gift-he said he was sorry he didn’t have one for me, and then after I came back to the common room after breakfast there was a gift for me under the tree from him. It was a last-minute thing girls, probably a pen or a ring he had transfigured to make it the bracelet. It’s a sweet gift nonetheless I will admit.” (y/n) said, pushing Lucy’s face away from her gently as Lucy squealed in her ear.

(y/n) then remembers the mistletoe. “oh yeah, I kissed his cheek.” (y/n) says offhandedly and Lucy nearly squeals her ear off. “ow!”

“Sorry-oh my merlin you kissed his cheek?! How-why? When-how did he react?” Lucy gasped, the other girls leaning in to devour each word (y/n) was about to say, but she only lifted her hands in surrender.

“it was just a kiss on the cheek! There was mistletoe-I think he was even going to step away to not make it awkward but I went for it because-you know, bad luck n stuff.” (y/n) said in her and Tom’s defense so her friends didn’t go ballistic and Lucy graoned, shaking (y/n)’s shoudlers.

“(yyyy/nnn) c’moooon! Theres so much tension between you two its gonna make me pop!” Lucy dramatically said and (y/n) snorted, rolling her eyes.

“What tension?” (y/n) asked and her friends just looked at each other and back at (y/n) with clear expressions of ‘seriously??’ (y/n) shrugged, sighing softly. “there's nothing going on between Tom and I girls, seriously. Just a few weeks ago we were at each others throats and now that were not you all think there's something there?”

Lucy snorted and Bella smirked. “c’mon (y/n), you know rivalries are just crushes you’re mad about having.” Bella laughed and (y/n) rolled her eyes again.

“He started it to be fair, and no-I don’t have a crush on him. He’s pleasant now but at most-he’s an acquaintance.” (y/n) said firmly and Alice giggled lightly.

“Whatever you say (y/n), but he’s the one who asked you to Slughorn’s party and asked you to have Christmas with him, and he never asks anyone to hang out with him-not even his friends. He prefers being alone.” Alice said and (y/n), again, rolled her eyes.

“Fine fine. Whatever, it doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen.” (y/n) sighed and her friends laughed, but left the topic alone, for now.

=

[teababe27]

@hanukkahbingo

hanukkahbingo 2023

Fic or Art/Graphic Title: alone in the dark, chapter eight: “Floods” Author/Artist Name: josiebelladonna Fandom: Testament (Band) Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Alex Skolnick (and how) Bingo Squares Being Filled: first night, menorah, candles, shamash, oil, light in the dark 🔥 Rating: Mature Warning(s): Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Link to Work: x @aimmyarrowshigh

Christine and I returned to the front room of the house with our pants buttoned back up and our hair returned to form, and all the while, I wondered about the sight of the blush on my face. She had gotten me going back there, such that I could hardly breathe or keep up with my own thoughts. I couldn't believe that I had jacked off alongside with her: we had done it together and none of them seemed to have noticed, either. I was also surprised by the fact that none of them noticed that she and I had gone into the room for as long as we did.

I ran my fingers through my hair, and I swore that I had a little too much warmth on the back of my neck. Wendy smiled at me through the graying shadows all around us; before I took my spot on the couch, Christine gave my ass a little pinch, which in turn made my spine straighten up a bit.

“You okay?” Wendy asked me.

“Yeah, I just got a chill is all,” I sputtered out to her, and I sank down on the couch next to her. I rested my hands upon my knees and let out a low whistle. “You know, it just sinks over you and doesn’t leave.”

“Oh, yes, I know the feeling,” she assured me with a nod and a little smile on her face. I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t really in the mood for some lovin’, especially when her own daughter sat right next to me and touched herself right in front of me. I needed to shake off the feeling before anything else happened thereafter.

Meanwhile, right over our heads, the rain persisted in the form of hard and strong pattering like a bunch of hammers going all at the same time.

“Do you think that we could see some flooding soon enough?” Christine herself asked aloud from my left.

“It’s possible,” her grandfather confessed as he leaned back in the recliner chair. “But we’re safe here, though, I would think.”

“It would still be necessary to keep an eye on everything outside, though, dear,” her grandmother then chimed in.

“Of course, of course…” I turned my head towards Christine and the fact the she had her legs pulled up towards her chest so her feet rested on the edge of the chair cushion. She kept her eyes fixed on me, while I had my attention focused on her short red hair. I couldn’t hardly shake it out of my mind, the thought of her there next to me.

If only I knew what she was trying to do for me right then. She had her eyes fixated on me and her fingers pointed in my direction. Something told me she was trying to send me some sort of signal through her fingers: I thought about the night before when we lay in bed together when she had her hands on my belly as if she held onto a big teddy bear. The way that I glanced down at my belly right then, and then I moved my attention back to her hands and the way that she flexed her fingers at the sight of me. I had a thought in the dead center of my mind and I didn't really want to think about it, but I thought it, anyway. I swallowed when she rubbed her fingertips together; I brought my gaze to hers only to find out that she was looking at my jeans, followed by the bottom of my shirt. She licked her lips and cracked me a little smirk.

I was only slightly thick in the waist but I wished that I could feel what she was feeling at that moment. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to act on it in there not, and definitely not with her mother and grandparents in the same room with us. Luckily for me, the three of them fell silent, which gave me the opportunity to speak up.

“So, what should we do now?” I asked them with a clearing of my throat. There was a brief pause, accentuated by the sound of the rain.

“We have some cards,” her grandmother suggested. “I don't think we have a dreidel, though.”

“It's alright,” I assured her with a shake of my head. “I haven't played with a dreidel since I was a little kid—I don't even remember how to play the game proper now. All I know is you've gotta spell out the acronym that translates to 'a great miracle happened there.'”

I gave my hair a shake and leaned forward on the couch, and I rested my elbows on my knees. Through the shadows, Christine’s grandparents showed me their grins, in all their toothy quality surrounded by the wrinkles of time and age. If only I could see myself the way that they saw me, especially with the gray light through the window onto me.

“You're very proud of your heritage, aren't you?” her grandfather said with a little chuckle.

“I guess you could say that I am,” I replied, and I couldn't resist smiling back at him.

“By the way, mind me prying but—I just now noticed your gray hairs,” her grandmother added.

“Oh, this old thing?” I quipped as I rested a hand on the right side of my head. “I've had this for quite a while.”

“It's interesting how it's collected on that part of your head,” Wendy told me. “Like it kind of makes you wonder where it came from.”

“It's just one of life's many mysteries,” I said in a low voice. “It's like the eighth wonder of the world.” And the four of them laughed at that.

“Anyways, I think we do have some cards laying around in the bedroom,” Christine’s grandfather said as he stood to his feet. I watched him go into the hallway before I returned my attention to the three generations of women there next to me.

“Alex is surrounded by girls,” Christine then quipped.

“It's kind of odd for me, too,” I said.

“Why is that?” Wendy asked.

“Yeah, even with the gray hair, you're actually very handsome, dear,” Christine’s grandmother chimed in.

“It gives character,” Wendy added. “The same can be said with your nose, too. There's just something kind of raw about you, too. Raw, primitive beauty, dare I say.”

“That's beautiful, Mom,” Christine said right then.

“Yeah, that was beautiful,” I echoed her, and I could feel myself growing warm again. I ran my fingers through my hair again, and that time around, I gave my head such a shake that I showed off my neck, as well.

“Gorgeous man alert,” Christine joked, which brought a laugh out of all of us. Her grandfather then returned to the front room with a couple of decks of cards in one hand and what appeared to be a game of Chinese checkers in the other hand.

“Remember playing this, Christine?” he asked her as he set the board down on the coffee table before Wendy and me.

“All the time! The six way checker board with the little marbles, oh yes.”

It was just a little cozy afternoon there in the house, even as I heard the water furiously down the swollen gutters outside. The street was about to be flooded but I trusted her grandfather, though, in the safety of the house. All I could tell myself was that the rain had to lift at some point, and it had to lift by the time the shadows shifted and the light began to fade.

“The first night is upon us, son,” he told me. “It's going to be dark in the next hour or so.” I turned my attention to Christine again and the warm look to her face, the warmth despite the increasing shadows and the singular candlelight that danced across her face. As far as I knew, she was trying to climb inside my head and find something about me to bring to the light. I then turned my attention to the hearth and the nine candles up top there: they stood in anticipation of two being lit up for the night.

“What do you think we should do?” Wendy then joined in.

“Let’s all sit in here and then one of us can light it up,” I coaxed her. “Once it's lit, we'll have a moment of silence and then we can have dinner.” I turned my attention to Christine’s grandparents. “Is there anything fried or oiled up in the kitchen that we can make on the hot plate?”

“French fries!” her grandfather said.

“That'll work, actually,” I assured him, and I couldn't help but laugh. I was cozy and warm and welcomed. I had to laugh. “Hey, seasoned potatoes deep fried in oil, yeah, totally!”

Soon enough, the light faded to where I knew the sun was about to go down, and I knew my parents were already proceeding with their own celebration back East, by themselves and without me and my brother there with them. We would be there for the next seven nights, I was certain.

Christine offered to light the makeshift menorah for us once it grew dark enough to light up the candles.

“Okay, so what do I do, exactly?” she asked me.

“First, you light up the one in the middle,” I instructed her. “And then you take that candle and light up the one off to the far left of you.”

“These are oil candles, right, Mom?” She showed the little one in the middle to Wendy.

“I believe they are, yes,” she replied.

“It's alright, I'm not going to make a huge deal out of it,” I promised her. “I'm Reform Jewish so I won't complain. My parents are the ones with the big brass menorah up on the mantel that lights up with the oil candles. It's always a sight to see on the eighth night, especially.”

“Should I put these up here on the mantel?” she offered me. “So it's more like a proper menorah?”

“If you want,” I told her with a shrug of my shoulders. “I like how they're down by the fireplace, actually. It really drives home the 'light that never goes out' mantra when I really look at them from here.”

Christine used one of those long fireplace matches to light up the little candle in the middle, the one that acted as the shamash. The wick slowly gave us a small flame about the size of a chickpea; but once she doused the flame on the match, I had a feeling that would suffice for the one on the left. She picked it up and brought the flame to the candle on the far left: the room smelled of wax and sulfur, but at least it was that and not black spray paint on the garage door panel outside. The flame on the far left erupted to life, and she sat the shamash down before she joined the four of us there on the couch.

The light of the shamash and the candle at the far left flickered over the wall right behind the hearth. I closed my eyes as I thought about my mom, the feeling of her arms around my waist and her hands rested upon my chest; I thought about my dad and the way he liked to hold me close to him from the front. The feeling of my parents’ arms on me: a feeling that I missed and wanted so much right then, perhaps more than the feeling of Christine’s body next to me. It was all I wanted right then: a hug from both of my parents, and especially after those last couple of days.

I opened my eyes and gazed on at the dancing twin flames there upon the bricks and the shadows inside of the fireplace. The one on the far left was the smaller of the two, while the flame of the shamash seemed to be taller.

There was a light that never went out. There was a light that only guided the way through the graying shadows and the swelling rivers in the storm drains outside. There was a light that never went out in the swirling darkness over the parched desert terrain.

The helper candle helping the smaller of the two, like a young man helping a seventeen-year-old girl find herself, and the girl helping the man find himself, mainly because the two of them had just come right out of relationships that transformed them. A pair of flames, fueled by the sweet caress of the cold droves of water outside of there.

I kept my hands on my lap and my feet flat on the floor. All I could think about were my parents.

For a second, I swore that I felt either Wendy or Christine’s hands on my knee, but when I looked down, I saw nothing.

All I could think about were my parents.

Through the noise of the rain, I swore I heard sirens, like the sirens that warned you before something rained down on you like fire and brimstone. I couldn't explain it but for a brief second, I swore that I saw the end. Maybe it was my own heritage, and maybe it was my own pride, but I stood alone. I was there in that warm, cozy little oasis, away from the rest of the world, and a part of me did not want to leave. A part of me did not want to leave, but then I remembered that I was going back to an even bigger oasis clear across the country, and I could hug my mom again as she served me some sufganiyot with all the powdered sugar dusted on top as well as the gelt for the second night. I also tried to picture the sweater that she wanted to give me as well.

To feel the warmth. To feel the comfort.

“Shabbat Shalom,” Wendy declared as the sound of her voice broke the silence.

“Shabbat was actually two nights ago, but—you know,” I pointed out with a shrug followed by a chuckle.

“Who wants French fries?” Christine’s grandfather asked us.

“Ooh, yes please!” I chirped.

“I'll make 'em,” Christine herself offered, and she stood to her feet.

“Wanna join her, son?” her grandfather asked me with a smirk.

“Why, to see if it's coming along kosher?” I joked to him, and we all chuckled at that. “Gladly!”

I followed her into the kitchen and something told me this was going to manifest in another way somehow. Darkness covered the entire kitchen, as did the continual drone of the rain outside. No sooner had I stepped out of their line of sight when I felt her hands on my chest. I staggered back a bit towards the fridge as she planted her lips onto mine.

She breathed harder as her fingers swept through the roots of my hair at the back of my head. Her hips brushed up against my own; I steadied myself on the door of the fridge but it was too slippery so I stepped towards the cabinets. I couldn't explain it but I had these deep feelings within me as well. She had awoken something in me over the last couple of days and they were all flooding out right then and there with the use of nothing more than her own fingers.

All I could think about was the rain. The rain and the floods. The swirling and whirling of the water between us. The little flames in the next room may have lit our way, but the waters carried us there. The waters between us and inside of us.

I wanted to resist. I wanted to tear away from her and the fact she was younger than me. But I couldn't escape the feeling. She and I were both desperate for the yearning and the soft touch, and most of all, the safety. I couldn't compare my own history to hers, but I couldn't help but feel something in her that I could compare to me. We both needed refuge from the world. We both needed a safe corner, even if it meant being in the darkness for the time being.

“I want you,” she breathed into my lips. “I want you so badly—”

The feelings were there but I needed to have some sense. I was nine years older than her, after all.

“Christine—” I grunted out, but she had an absolute death grip on me. “Christine, please, I can't—”

“Do you have a light in there, kids?” her grandmother called out.

“We sure do!” Christine called back; through the dim light, I saw her lick her lips before she gave me another big open lipped kiss in all its hearty fashion.

“Christine... your mother and your grandparents are in the other room!” I whispered to her.

“So? Let me touch you... I can't touch you?” She ran her fingers underneath the bottom hem of my shirt; her fingertips caressed up my skin which in turn sent these deep shivers up my spine. She had a grip on me, and there was a huge part of me that did not want her to stop, either.

“I need to ask you—” I sputtered out in between swipes from her lips. “I need—”

“Go ahead, baby,” she finally whispered to me.

“We need the light,” I breathed to her.

“But we need the darkness to stay under wraps,” she insisted to me, still with her voice down low only for me to hear.

“If they walk in, we have to stop, though,” I told her.

“Of course, of course...” she whispered right into my lips, and she pressed her own onto mine, yet again. She kissed with such strength and yet such softness, that I began to wonder why her ex was her ex in the first place.

“God dammit, you're such a great kisser,” I whispered into her lips. “I hate to admit that, too.”

“Why, 'cause I'm seventeen?” she asked me, slightly taken aback.

“Yes.”

“Well, you're very sexy for a man who's older than me,” she quipped back with a tap on the tip of my nose and another kiss on my lips. Fair enough.

“But I need to ask you,” I started again, and that time I broke free from her grip to look into her eyes, darkened by the pure nightfall that overcame us; “what are you doing? Like… why do you keep coming close to me when you and I both know that we’re worlds apart in terms of age?”

Christine then moved in closer to my ear, and I couldn't explain it but something told me she was about to lick the rim of it.

“Because I love you,” she whispered right into my ear instead. I raised my eyebrows. I knew she couldn't see me, and thus I held still instead.

“I love you,” she repeated to me. “I can’t explain it but I love you. I love you and I want you with me forever. I don’t care how old you are but you remind me of everything good in the world, of everything that I want and everything I love as well. I love you. I need you.”

She nudged a lock of hair behind my ear.

“You are the ghost of the love I once knew, and the one that I would give anything just to have it back,” she breathed right into my ear. She pressed her lips onto the side of my face and ran her hands down the small of my back and onto my ass. Another deep chill swept over me, all up and down my spine like a zipper. I let my chest rise so she could touch me again. She had a hold over me, and I knew I could trust her in it as well.

“It’s funny, I think I’m in love with you, too,” I whispered right into her face.

I really hoped that nothing would happen as she and I kept our arms around each other, and I planted my foot on the panel of the cupboard underneath the counter. I was more than willing to make out with her some more with what time we had left in that house together, that is until the overhead light of the kitchen flickered back on. Pale white light washed over the crowns of our heads, and she stepped back from me and smoothed down her top. I ran my fingers through my hair and blinked a few times; meanwhile, in the next room over, the three adults in the house seemed to be concocting something for us. With the rain continuing all around us, I could only wonder as to what it was and what they could give us with what we had at our disposal.

“Not going to need the candles after all,” I told her right then, that time in a louder voice so the three of them thought we were just looking for the candles and some more matches.

“We should get some takeout right about now,” I heard her grandfather suggest right then, and her grandmother chuckled at that. “When he talked about having Chinese food earlier, I’ve just had it on my mind since then.”

“It’s still raining like a bastard out there, though, Dad,” Wendy pointed out. “We’ll have to hustle back here in a haste.”

“At least we have the lights back on, dear,” Christine’s grandmother assured her. “We could fetch some dinner and come home to catch the news report about the rain and the airport.”

The mere mention of the airport only made me want to hold Christine in my arms even harder. After those sweet whispers, I wanted to feel her next to me. I couldn’t explain the feeling, but I wanted her so much more. Perhaps it was the realization that I could be back home at my parents’ house that time the next day, or maybe it was hearing that confession and the fact it was all so soon for the both of us.

“Please… keep this between you and me,” I whispered into her ear.

“You know that I will, baby,” she assured me with another kiss on the lips.

“I want to spend the night with you again,” she whispered.

“By all means, come to me,” I beckoned her.

[aimmyarrowshigh]

Panfandom Hanukkah Bingo 2024

Mitzvot. Bucky spends his December doing the work. Doing good.

Fic or Art/Graphic Title: H1b. Mitzvot - Bucky Barnes Author/Artist Name: aimmyarrowshigh Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Bucky Barnes Bingo Squares Being Filled: H1b - Mitzvot Rating: T Warning(s): Holocaust Mentions Link to Work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61641265/

[phoebe-delia]

For your eight nights of Drarry event, what about “I get drunk on jealousy.”

Drunk on Jealousy

And for the finale of Eight Drarry Nights 2023, I am honored to write this for @xx-thedarklord-xx. Sam, I hope you know by now just how much I love your work. Apologies that this is so late. It's been a rough week (shoutout to my discord friends for the sweet support! You guys are amazing). But I wanted to give this proper time, which I haven't had until now. So, without further ado, here we go! And, of course, Happy (belated, now) Hanukkah.

Featuring: a secret relationship, possessive!Harry, and a Draco who is determined to drive Harry crazy—in the best way—until he snaps.

At this point, I'm starting to think the pint in your hand is just for show. You've hardly touched it. I'd wager you're entirely sober.

You come to pub nights with our colleagues, every other Friday, yet you hardly drink anymore. Would you be surprised that I've noticed? When have I not noticed you, Potter?

I've seen you watching me. You're not being very subtle; if you want to keep this a secret, you're going to have to tear your eyes away from my arse. Not that I want you to, mind you. I always want your eyes on me.

Have you caught on to my game yet? You're an ex-Auror. Use your talents of deduction. I flit and flirt my way through the pub, talking to everyone but you, but it's always your bed I come back to, isn't it? Meanwhile, you stew and scowl and glare at me from the corner of the pub as if you don't know the foregone conclusion.

Silly Potter. There's an easy way to get me to end this; a quick, surefire solution to this self-inflicted torture. You'd just have to march over here with that big, tough Chosen One bravado, scoop me into your arms, and kiss me the way you usually do when no one's around. No one else would dare touch me again, and we'd finally be free from sneaking around. Win-win.

But you're trying to be a gentleman. You're trying to "give me my space" and let me bring our relationship out of the proverbial closet when I'm ready. It's admirable; very touchy-feely-sweet-Gryffindor of you.

But I've had enough. I'm ready for more. I'm sure you'd say that I could simply tell you. But where's the fun in that? It's much more entertaining for me to see you get all worked up, jaw clenching with every smirk I throw your way as I talk and laugh and flirt with other men.

Tonight, though, I think you've finally realized. Or, at least, you're going to lose it. I'm talking to—what did he say his name was? Greg? Thomas? I'm not sure, but it won't matter in a moment. You're gripping that pint like it's personally offended you; I'm almost afraid it's going to shatter in your hand.

From the corner of my eye, I see you all but slam it on the table, the drink sloshing a bit over the rim. While the rest of the pub is too rowdy to notice, your tablemates startle and look at you with alarm. But you're glaring at me. I just deepen my smirk and raise my eyebrow at you.

You rise from your seat, letting your chair fall over behind you, and stride purposefully over to me.

Good.

That's it.

Come and get me.

[adreamareads]

The holiday fics continue! 8 days and 8 nights of Nora celebrating Chanukah (or Hanukkah, if you prefer that spelling)

Featuring heavy doses of Junora, lots of friendship and family time. Nora gets to share her Chanukah celebrations with June, as well as with Alex & Henry, with her family, and other friends.

Tagging some folks again like yesterday!

@onthewaytosomewhere @typicalopposite @xthelastknownsurvivorx @suseagull5914

@iboatedhere @tailsbeth-writes @14carrotghoul